. St. Nicholas [serial] . y years have passed since thisnoble poem was written. It came in that firstyear of the war, like the sound of a silver trumpet,like the flash of a lifted sword ; and all men feltthat this was the word for which they had beenwaiting. You shall hear, in our mothers ownwords, how it came to be written. In the late autumn of the year 1861 I visitedthe national capital in company with my hus-band, Dr. Howe, and a party of friends, amongwhom were Governor and Mrs. Andrew, Mrs. E. P. Whipple, and my dear pastor,Rev. James Freeman Clarke. The journey was one of vivid,
. St. Nicholas [serial] . y years have passed since thisnoble poem was written. It came in that firstyear of the war, like the sound of a silver trumpet,like the flash of a lifted sword ; and all men feltthat this was the word for which they had beenwaiting. You shall hear, in our mothers ownwords, how it came to be written. In the late autumn of the year 1861 I visitedthe national capital in company with my hus-band, Dr. Howe, and a party of friends, amongwhom were Governor and Mrs. Andrew, Mrs. E. P. Whipple, and my dear pastor,Rev. James Freeman Clarke. The journey was one of vivid, even romanticinterest. We were about to see the grim Demon of War face to face; and long before we reachedthe city his presence made itself felt in the blazeof fires along the road where sat or stood ourpickets, guarding the road on which we traveled. One day we drove out to attend a review oftroops, appointed to take place some distancefrom the city. In the carriage with me wereJames Freeman Clarke and Mr. and Mrs. Whip-. IE. JULIA WARD HOWE. pie. The day was fine, and everything promisedwell, but a sudden surprise on the part of theenemy interrupted the proceedings before theywere well begun. A small body of our men hadbeen surrounded and cut off from their com-panions ; reinforcements were sent to their assist-ance, and the expected pageant was necessarilygiven up. The troops who were to have takenpart in it were ordered back to their quarters,and we also turned our horses heads home-ward. For a long distance the foot-soldiers nearlyfilled the road. They were before and behind,and we were obliged to drive very slowly. Wepresently began to sing some of the well-knownsongs of the war, and among them, John Browns body lies a-mouldering in the grave. 614 WHEN I WAS YOUR AGE. [June, This seemed to please the soldiers, who cried, Good for you ! and themselves took up thestrain. Mr. Clarke said to me, You ought towrite some new words to that tune. I repliedthat I had often wished t
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